Marching On
by reesybaby
Summary: Based on the Timbaland song of the same name, this is a look into Miss Potter's thoughts during Chapter 81 of my main story. See inside for a more detailed summary. Beyond that, please read, enjoy and leave me a review!


A/N - Wow, I'm on the other side of the world and I've still managed to knock up something!! This is inspired by a song that I have been listening too a fair bit, and it just seemed to fit with the general mood of things at this point of the story! It is set in the middle of Chapter 81 of _Story 4_, as she is walking down Diagon Alley. It is not necessary that you have read _Story 4_ in order to read this little one-shot, but it would help as you'd know the background of all the stuff that is referred to. Though the song is perhaps a little different to the ones that I have inspired me before, it just seemed to have the right mixture of contemplativeness and determination that I believe she feels at this point in the tale. But I'll leave it for you to judge.

I hope you enjoy this little offering and who knows, maybe there will be more...although that may be slightly harder as I will not have such ready access to a computer as I travel up the coast.

Please read, enjoy and leave me a review to make my rucksack feel just that little bit lighter!!

The song is _'Marchin' On' _by Timbaland (featuring One Republic) and all the other characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

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__For those days we felt like a mistake...  
Those times when love's what you hate...  
Somehow...we keep marching on._

There are some days when I cannot help but feel lost; like I've turned a corner and stepped into a life that is not my own. It is on those days that I am my own worst enemy, for I allow my mind to wander and I find myself asking the same question that they do in the Prophet. It is on these days that I do wonder if what I did was a mistake, for that is certainly how people wish me to feel. But was it really?

I know that lying to everyone that cared for me was probably a mistake, well, definitely a mistake. But the choice was an impossible one, or at least it became impossible once I knew what I wanted. Understanding would not have been proffered had I decided to tell anyone about what was going on. He simply would have been removed from my life in a flash, despite whatever objections I might have had. The Prophet may be so very keen to decry my actions as a 'reputation-destroying failure in judgement', but no matter how I am made to feel by their censure, I shall never believe that this is a mistake.

At times they even make me hate the fact that my heart chose him, and I know that such a tiny difference would have spared me the pain of the past year. However, I know that no matter how hard I could have tried, I probably would have ended up caring for him as much as I do now. There are those who say that I should have resisted, that I should not have allowed myself to be swayed by kind words and fine gifts. But who can really claim to have such control of their heart? I certainly cannot.

_For those nights when I couldn't be there...  
I've made it harder to know that you know  
that somehow...we'll keep movin' on._Despite what others may think, he does not relish the fact that he is safely confined in Azkaban where the hate and the malice of the general public cannot reach him, whilst I am left to confront their ire on my own. It is somewhat worrying that people are so blinded by past fears that they cannot look beyond what they believe and see what is really there.

Although he knows, and has been told upon multiple occasions, that I am perfectly capable of coping with the criticism and scrutiny that my choices bring; I still feel like he considers it a failing that he cannot properly confront my detractors. I suppose it is endearing that he considers himself responsible in such a way, even though it is unnecessary.

I know that it frustrates him to be so separated, now that the necessity of our concealment has long passed. It would be a lie if I were to claim that our separation does not affect me also, but I allow myself to hope that it will not be for long. Of course, there is that constant fear that the Wizengamot will seek to imprison him for far longer than I believe he deserves, but I am doing my best not to acknowledge it.

Although I freely admit to this concern, I doubt that he will speak to me of his fears. Sometimes, however, when he looks at me, I see a fear that I cannot place. I don't know if he fears Azkaban, and the inevitable suffering a long period of incarceration will undoubtedly cause, or whether it is something entirely different. Now that he has no reason to dread his Master's wrath, I can only assume that the thing he fears is me. Maybe that's what it is; that pained glint in his eye that I glimpse now and then.

It seems a strange twist of fate that our worst fears might just be the same; that he might fear my leaving as much as I fear his eye will stray.

_There's so many wars we've fought  
There's so many things we're not  
But with what we have, I promise you that  
We're marching on...we're marching on...we're marching on._

_So many hills we had to climb  
Almost without our strength  
but we kept...slowly marching on._

Though we have not always been on the same side, we have both had our battles to fight. I have fought for my life, alongside my brother and my friends, and he has fought the principles upon which he has lived his entire life in order to remain by my side. And now our next battle shall be fought together; against all those who do not wish to believe what they see. It is comforting that this is one battle I shall not have to fight alone. There are so many things that we are not, despite what the Prophet insists on peddling; but the one thing we are, is united.

We have both faced the problems and the opposition that our relationship has brought; meeting the challenges head on despite how little we wished to confront such matters. It hasn't been an easy road, especially when I have had to walk most of it on my own, but I have kept on going because I know that one day people will understand. Though it may take months, years even, we will march on.

_Time heals the wounds we couldn't close  
Blood sweat and tears dried up  
We're okay...we kept marching on__._

_There's so many wars we've, fought  
There's so many things we're not  
But with what we have, I promise you that  
We're marching on...we're marching on...we're marching on._

Most people question my ability to remain by his side after he wounded me so egregiously, and I can understand why, but those people have little or no idea of what such an experience feels like. Such wounds cannot be healed by words and gestures alone, it takes time. It has been two years since that terrible night when our worlds collided and, although I have been able to push the memories from my mind somewhat, it is only very recently that I have been able to contemplate forgiveness.

I know that I shall never be able to forget what happened, and neither will he, but I do not wish it to be an issue that forever directs the course of my life. I have far too much life to live for something like that to be constantly weighing on my mind. But, again, this seems to be a concept that people fail to understand. They seem to think that I should be breaking down at the mere thought of what he did, not standing up and defending him before a packed courtroom. Although this is merely evidence of the very selective memories that people possess, as they seem to have totally forgotten that the evidence I gave will probably do him more harm than good.

Maybe this is the one thing that people will never understand, but I don't particularly care. All I know is that my heart is too closely bound to his fate for me to turn back now.

Get your legs and walk cause we're not too far  
A little more to go, but we marching on  
We marching on...we marching on  
We marching on...we marching..  
If we lose the sun, we bring the night back  
If we gonna win, we gotta fight back  
We marching on...we marching on  
We marching on...we marching...

_The bridges are gone, and we're almost home...  
The end is close..._

So, for now, I must put one foot in front of the other and keep forging ahead through the mire. Even now, despite the height of my shoes, my step does not falter as I stride down the cobbles of Diagon Alley. I can see the way people stare at me and I know what they must be thinking, but at this point I do not mind. I will not claim to be possessed of any form of foresight, but I can sense that the end is near and it gives me hope. Of course, what that end will be, I do not even dare predict.

One thing I do know, however, is that I can gain nothing if I do not fight back. Even though my victory could cost me dearly, I am determined to keep on going. Indeed, for him I have already sacrificed most of my once unquestionable reputation. But things such as this are fluid and forever changing. Their loss, as opposed to the potential alternative, can be easily borne.

For now I am content to have him, when I can; even if we must remain hidden in the shadows. I am used to that, maybe I would even deem myself skilled at that, considering past events. Until the day comes when he and I can walk freely through this cobbled thoroughfare, I am content with the knowledge that he is there; hidden behind the darkened glass of the car's windows. Though my expression will probably be interpreted as smug self-satisfaction, I cannot help but smile at the thought of the long, lazy afternoon to come.

_There's so many wars we've, fought  
There's so many things we're not  
But with what we have, I promise you that  
We're marching on, we're marching on, we're marching on__..._

And so, come Monday, I shall once again don my mask and armour; shielding my heart and my feelings lest they be used against me. With battles behind me and battles yet to come, fully confident in the knowledge that I am strong, I shall march on...

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Oh, and on a general note....Australia is ace!!!!


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